


sit and wait as the time ticks by

by catching_paper_moons



Series: paint my body gold [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catching_paper_moons/pseuds/catching_paper_moons
Summary: “Hi, Jordan,” Mat says, keeping his eyes closed. He hears a quiet laugh. “How did you get in here?”“I asked Tito for his room key,” Jordan says, like it’s as easy as counting to ten.





	sit and wait as the time ticks by

**Author's Note:**

> if u recognize someone you know in this fic just get rid of your computer pls lmao
> 
> this is within the same universe as "paint my body gold." and really it came about because I love Jordan Eberle, and it was his birthday yesterday.
> 
> title is from "the next ten minutes" from the last five years

Mat flops on his bed, feeling some type of way after their game against Germany. It’s not that anything is bad, but Mat is tired. He’s been playing, well, not great by his standards. He wishes something would go right for him. He’s never been lights out on the international stage. He can only imagine what the analysts are saying. Everything is...well. A lot.

The door opens and Mat doesn’t even roll over, doesn’t wanna talk to Tito about anything right now. He hopes that Tito gets the message and just won’t say anything, but the bed dips next to him and Tito doesn’t usually do that.

“Hey,” he hears, and that’s not Tito’s voice, so he turns his head to look at the person it’s coming from but doesn’t open his eyes yet. A hand smooths some of his hair back.

“Hi, Jordan,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. He hears a quiet laugh. “How did you get in here?”

“I asked Tito for his room key,” he says, like it’s as easy as counting to ten. “He’s worried about you. You’ve been quiet.”

Mat sighs. He doesn’t want to do this, not on Jordan’s birthday, not during this tournament, not ever, really, but he opens his eyes instead. “This is a really roundabout way of saying that you’re concerned about how quiet I’m being, isn’t it?”

Jordan smiles slightly, shrugs. “Maybe,” he says, rubbing Mat’s back slowly. “I could just say that, though.”

Mat sighs again and rolls all the way over onto his back, and he pats the space next to him. “Come here, birthday boy,” he says, and Jordan laughs at that, a loud and bright thing that Mat would do anything to hear again. Jordan kicks off his shoes and lies down next to him. “You’re old.”

“I’m  _ old _ ?” Jordan says, incredulous. Mat snorts. “I’m twenty-eight.”

“Old,” Mat repeats, cupping Jordan’s face and pulling him in for a kiss. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“Thank god for that,” Jordan says into Mat’s mouth, and it’s only a little sarcastic. Mat loves him. Mat’s never felt so much in one moment as he does right now. He kisses Jordan again.

“I got you a gift,” Mat says quietly. Their mouths are still close together, breathing the same air, and Jordan shifts a little, rolling his eyes. “Come on. It’s nothing huge.”

“You still got me  _ a gift _ ,” Jordan whines, and Mat huffs out a laugh.

“We’re  _ dating _ ,” Mat says, booping Jordan’s nose, to which Jordan scrunches his nose up and makes a dumb face, and seriously. Mat loves him more than anything. “You want me to grab it?”

“If you’re feeling inclined,” Jordan says, which Mat takes as a resounding yes, so he heaves himself up off the bed and digs through his suitcase, where the gift he bought the other day is sitting. “Seriously, Mat, you didn’t have to.”

“And seriously, Jordan, you’re my boyfriend and I wanted to.” He finds it, in its wrapped glory, and proudly hands it to Jordan. “Here.” Jordan takes it and looks at it, as if he’s never seen a gift bag before. He takes one piece of tissue paper out at a time, and finally, Mat rolls his eyes. “Babe.”

Jordan smiles at him and pulls him in for a kiss, throwing Mat a little off balance, but Jordan steadies him. “I’m just fucking with you,” Jordan says. He takes out the card first, and Mat can barely stand the wait because he’s an impatient guy by nature, and also he’s, well, really nervous. Like.

Jordan means a lot to him. A lot a lot. Like Mat’s in love with him, has been since probably November, and now Mat got him a  _ gift _ because he’s sappy and gross, and he’s afraid that Jordan’s going to open it and laugh in his face even though he knows Jordan would never. And Mat always tends to accidentally fuck things up when things are going well, and wouldn’t it be just his luck that this gift is the one thing that sends them over the edge, really…

“Hey,” Jordan says, staring at the gift, effectively pulling Mat out of his reverie. It’s a bracelet with string that’s tied to a silver plate that says “Edmonton • Long Island” and it’s kind of dumb, in retrospect, and Jordan hasn’t really  _ said _ anything. At all. “Mat.”

“It’s dumb, I know, I just–” Jordan kisses him, then, and it’s so many feelings wrapped up in one kiss that Mat genuinely doesn’t know what to do. He pulls back to catch his breath and he thinks Jordan might be crying. “Shit, I didn’t mean to…” He trails off as Jordan shakes his head.

“It’s perfect,” Jordan says, and he sounds a little choked up, and his eyes are a little glassy. “It’s perfect, you’re perfect. I love you so much.”

“I’m glad,” Mat says quietly, stroking Jordan’s hair lightly. “I love you, too.”

“No, really, Mat,” Jordan says, looking at the bracelet. “You got this so right.”

“It was like ten dollars at this shop, and then I spent like 50 to get it engraved but I just figured you’d maybe like it,” Mat says, and when Jordan looks up after clasping it to his wrist, he looks so genuinely happy that  _ Mat _ could cry. “I’m glad I was right.”

“How are you real?” Jordan asks, almost to himself, which makes Mat blush, but Jordan grabs his hand and kisses the back of his palm. “In the best way, Mat.” Jordan’s looking at him so intensely Mat’s not sure how his cheeks aren’t fucking burning.

“I know,” Mat says, and he kisses Jordan’s forehead before laying back down. “It looks good on you.”

“Well, I will love and cherish it forever,” Jordan says, leaving no room for argument, and he lays down, pats his chest. “Come here.” Mat shifts so that he’s laying his head on Jordan’s chest, and for a blissful, brief moment, he thinks Jordan’s going to let him nap, but. “Wanna talk now that you sufficiently distracted me for five minutes?”

Mat hums. “What would you say if I said no?”

“I’d ask to talk to you tomorrow.” Jordan kisses the top of his head, and Mat takes a deep breath in, exhales, and buries his face in Jordan’s chest. “Please? I am a little concerned. It’s not just Tito.”

Mat knows that Jordan being 28 now means that he knows a little something about relationships. Mat gets it that he’s young, he’s new to this, he’s kind of emotionally dumb, but talking about his feelings is not something he’s ever been great at, although he’s been trying for Jordan. It’s just...easier to not say anything at all, sometimes.

“I’m just in my own head about hockey, honestly,” Mat says. “I’m fine.”

“You say that all the time,” Jordan says, “how am I supposed to believe it?” He’s drawing little patterns into Mat’s back, and it’s calming and entrancing to the point that Mat doesn’t answer. “Babe?”

“Oh,” Mat says, back in reality. “I...will be okay. Is that better?” Jordan sighs and his hand stops moving, and Mat knows he’s doing poorly. “Look. I’m struggling a little, but I’m handling it.”

“I know,” Jordan says, and his hand starts moving again, and Mat relaxes a miniscule amount. “Can I help you handle it?”

“Just being here is helpful enough,” Mat replies. “It’s probably something I should figure out on my own.” 

“Okay,” Jordan says, and he leans in, kissing Mat once, twice. They sit in silence for a while, the only noise the air conditioner in the background as it whirrs to life again. It’s comfortable and nice. Mat loves him.

“Did you wanna do something for your birthday tonight?” Mat asks. His hands are almost gripping at Jordan’s shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“Being with you is enough for me,” Jordan says. Mat kisses his shoulder. “Wanna come to my room? I don’t have a roommate.”

“Oh?” Mat asks, and Jordan rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay. Let’s go, old man.” Jordan groans as Mat pushes him off the bed.

“The worst,” Jordan says, pulling Mat off the bed and tugging him in. This kiss is longer, more intense, and Mat pulls back, breathing heavily. “Come on.”

 

––––– 

 

Mat wakes up around actual bedtime, too hot, Jordan plastered against his back. He’s never been more grateful to not be wearing clothes. He nudges Jordan a little, and Jordan rolls over and sits up. 

“Morning,” Jordan says, rubbing at his eyes, sleep-rumpled hair everywhere. It’s ridiculously cute. Mat tells him so, and he blushes.

“Also, it’s actually like 9,” Mat says, rubbing his back. “Wanna grab something quick for dinner? Or do you wanna just go back to sleep?”

Jordan hums, pulling Mat back to the bed with him. “We should just sleep. We fucked up our sleep schedules enough, anyway.” He kisses Mat again, and again, and Mat feels good and light and okay, and like maybe tomorrow will be better. 

He likes feeling like that.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! <3


End file.
